


harry talks to the dursley's

by niamhies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon Compliant, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:48:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niamhies/pseuds/niamhies
Summary: Harry's been putting this inevitable conversation off for days now, but with Kingsley and Mr Weasley expected to turn up tomorrow, he finally works up the courage to tell the Dursley's that they need to go into hiding.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	harry talks to the dursley's

Clutching the long scroll of parchment in his hands, Harry sighed and stood up from unslept in bed. His room at Privet Drive had never been so clean, with half of the room bare of any belongings whilst the other half had neatly stacked boxes, and a few bin bags full of unessential items. He checked the time on the small alarm clock beside his bed, reluctantly admitting to himself that he could put this conversation off no longer.

Petunia had sent his still untouched food up half an hour ago, which Harry thought was surely enough time for the three of them downstairs to have finished eating, and treaded quietly down the stairs. He made his way into the kitchen where Dudley was helping himself to seconds, Vernon was reading the evening newspaper with his beady eyes, and Petunia stood in front of the sink, cleaning the plates of leftover, and probably extremely bland, lasagne. 

At the sound of footsteps, the three of them looked up, all staring at Harry with mild looks of surprise. They never tried to notice him, if they could help it, but seeing as they hadn’t seen him since they had picked him up from King’s Cross, it was safe to say they hadn’t been expecting an appearance from him anytime soon. Petunia looked away quickly, not acknowledging his presence, whilst Dudley looked down sheepishly and Vernon glared at him, as though his mere presence offended him.

Harry walked over to the table and sat down in the seat next to Dudley. Before the words slipped from Vernon’s open mouth, most lilely ready to hurl some abuse at the boy, Harry said quite calmly, “I need to tell you all something.” 

The room lapsed into silence for a moment, Petunia’s scrubbing fingers coming to a halt, and Dudley’s fork clattering against the table. Vernon narrowed his eyes before carefully folding his newspaper.

“What is it, boy? None of your lot better be coming around here again, mark my words-“

“You need to go into hiding,” said Harry, cutting him off carelessly. He had long passed the years of caring what his uncle said to him. 

Vernon spluttered, his cheeks turning a blotchy purple. He seemed to be struggling to say something, so Harry continued. He took out the letter from Kingsley that he had received the night before and pushed it towards the older man.

“I’m seventeen in a few weeks, so the magic protecting me – protecting all of you as well – will break. Which means that Lord Voldemort, that bad wizard I told you about, will be able to find you, because there’s no protections on this house. That letter will tell you everything you need to know.” Harry gestured towards the letter on the table.

Vernon looked furiously between Harry and the letter, his eyes squinting. Dudley made a frightful squeak of a noise, whilst Petunia simply stared blankly at him. 

“What?” said Vernon dumbly, his voice dangerously low. 

Harry forced himself not to groan. He had known, really, that they wouldn’t take this news easy – especially Vernon. He checked the time, six o’clock, and wondered just how long this was going to take.

“Do you remember this time last year when that man came here for me?” Harry asked, looking between them all. A large part of Harry prepared himself for a possibly angry outburst at the mention of the wizarding world.

Vernon scoffed loudly, though Harry didn’t miss the way he checked the window to make sure no one was peering in. “Of course, I do. That- that, man… the audacity…” he grumbled, still not over how Dumbledore had waltzed into his house as though he owned it. “Grumble… Grumbleydo-“

“Dumbledore.” Harry corrected tightly, a mild, all familiar pain washing over him. “Yeah, well he explained it a little when he came around, but he’s… he’s dead,” swallowing thickly, he pushed himself to go on, “he was killed at the end of June… and er- he was the only one Voldemort feared. So now he’s gone, no one’s really safe anymore, least of all you.” 

A loud sound of glass shattering forced Harry to look up from his entwined hands, peering over at a frozen Aunt Petunia. Her face was paler than usual, her expression horror stricken, as her eyes bulged out of their sockets at Harry. Vernon was speaking, but neither Harry nor Petunia seemed to be listening, as they shared an odd minute of silent communication. Harry had never been so glad to have her as part of his family, hoping that she understood what this meant.

“Dumbledore’s dead?” Petunia gasped, her mouth agar. 

Harry nodded and straightened up in his seat, his focus solely on her. “It’s only a matter of months, maybe even weeks, before he takes full control. Voldemort’s got spies everywhere looking for me and anyone who knows me. People are being killed every day – in the news, I bet you’ve seen all the stuff that’s been happening. It’s all him!” his voice had risen as he spoke, desperate to explain everything before one of them locked him back up in his room.

“For you?! What on earth would he want you for?” said Vernon, a little hysterical. His face was disbelieving, because how could anyone care about his nephew, right?

Harry bit back an angry retort. “You already know why. He killed my parents because they were working against him, and then tried to kill me, but well, last time I checked, it didn’t work, did it?.” Harry explained, conveniently leaving out the part of the prophecy. The less they knew, they better. “That’s why I’ve got this,” he pointed at his scar, and they all stared at it, dumbfounded.

“All right, then,” Vernon began, his expression challenging, “so tell me why it is that we have to leave when what he wants is you.” He leant back in his chair, apparently satisfied that he had won the debate.

Huffing irritably, Harry wondered what he had to say to get it through his thick skull that he had the darkest wizard to ever exist looking for him. “Because, like it or not, you’re related to me. And if he finds you, which trust me, he’s going to try, he’ll torture you for information about me! He’ll use curses on you, and Unforgivables. He’s got so many supporters that if you don’t go into hiding, then he’ll be able find you as soon as the protection spell breaks!” he cried, patience running thin. 

“Torture?” squeaked Dudley, his eyes frightful and gazing over at Harry.

“Yeah. I’ve already escaped him last year and the year before, so now he’s desperate to finish me off. It makes him look weak at the fact he can’t kill a teenager, so he’ll stop at nothing until I’m dead.” Harry adverted his eyes and took a deep breath. When nobody spoke for another minute, Harry cleared his throat. “Listen, some of the best trained of… my kind… will be looking after you. There’s a safe house, with loads of protections surrounding it, and you’ll be top priority. The only – normal – folk above you will be Tony Blair.”

“Blair? The-“

“Prime Minister, yes. Do you get it, now? That’s how in danger you are.” Harry cut off, eyeing his Uncle’s outlandish facial expressions. 

“You,” Vernon started, angrily pointing his finger at Harry, “Do you seriously expect us to up our lives and go off to who-knows-where? How do we even know you’re telling the truth?” 

The accusatory tone in his voice made Harry bubble with anger. Why would he lie about something like this?

“Like I said, it’s all in that letter. Kingsley Shacklebolt and… and Arthur Weasley will be coming over tomorrow to explain it all.”

Vernon’s eyebrows were raised so high that they meshed into his hairline. “Coming over? Here? You better be pulling my leg, boy-“

You’ve seen Kingsley before. He’s on the news all the time, look,” said Harry quickly, and he unfolded the newspaper in front of Vernon and pointed to a still photo on the front page with Blair at the centre, and a tall, brown-skinned man just a little behind him. “That’s him. He’s the one looking after Blair and will be able to answer all your questions.”

That must’ve worked, because Vernon didn’t reply, and a look of recognition passed across his face, though stared angrily at the photo. His brain seemed to be doing some quick thinking, as though trying to find any excuse not to believe Harry.

“So he’s one of your kind, then? Hmph… should’ve known…” 

“That’s nice. Anyway, here can you just read this?” Harry was stood up now, the letter in his hands as he thrusted it into Vernon’s direction.

Tutting loudly, he snatched it from his hands and began reading, grumbling as he did. He seemed to be muttering the contents of the letter under his breath as he read on, and Dudley had to crane his neck around to read it. Petunia, Harry noticed, seemed to have come out of her stupor and was cleaning up the shattered pieces of glass off the floor, her face still as white as snow. 

When he had finished reading, Vernon set the parchment down and glared at it, as though the piece of paper had caused him serious bodily harm. “I cannot believe this… in all my years… ridiculous… bloody nonsense…” He lapsed into silence after that, the vein in his forehead protruding massively whilst he thought, but Harry thought he looked like he resembled an oddly shaped tomato. 

“So…” Vernon began, slits for eyes as he looked up at Harry, who was very tired. “Who is this-“ he checked the letter again, “Severus Snape. The man that killed that Bumbledore fellow. I think I’d like to have a chat with him.” Vernon said menacingly, and Harry let out a loud, bitter laugh.

“Are you having a laugh? Snape’s a wizard – and a Death Eater at that. Not to mention, no one’s seen him for weeks.”

“Severus Snape?”

Harry whirled around to face Aunt Petunia, who looked like she was on the verge of being sick.

“Did you- Did you just say Severus Snape?”

“Uh-“

Harry had never seen the woman move so quick – she scurried around the kitchen top and grasped the letter with trembling fingers. She read it in silence, a greatly petrified look on her face. 

“A murderer- He…”

“What, d’you know him?” asked Harry, his brows furrowed. 

Petunia glanced his way but didn’t reply. “Vernon-“

“How do you know Snape?” Harry pressed, his heart thundering. The casual mention of that man made Harry’s emotions rage. He wanted to find that man so desperately… If it wasn’t for him then his parents would be alive, Sirius would be alive, Dumbledore would be alive… he wouldn’t be sitting in this room… he wouldn’t have that scar cut into his forehead…

“Be quiet, you!” barked Vernon, before turning to his wife, “You know this man, Petunia?” His voice seemed to have risen several octaves, and Harry remembered back to the summer of his fourth year, finding out that his aunt knew much more about his world that she let on… 

“I… V-Vernon, the boy’s right.” Petunia said with a strain to her voice. “Those people will be coming tomorrow, and we need to… listen to them.” 

Harry stood in silence for a moment, blatant shock covering his face. Was he having delusions or did his aunt just agree with him?

“Petunia, a-are you… surely- What about Dudders?”

“That man, Vernon. I remember… her, and the way she talked about him. He hates people that’re normal like us, kills them. And that Snape-“ her face contorted into one of loathing, and Harry only just managed to catching her murmur “if it wasn’t for him…”

A thousand questions ran through Harry’s mind as he took her words in. ‘If it wasn’t for him’ – if it wasn’t for him, what?

The snapping of fingers brought Harry back, blinking as his mind unfogged.

“You, go upstairs.” Vernon ordered, his eyes brimming with suppressed fury. Harry was sure that if it wasn’t for the blatant fear Petunia was possessing, he would have received a swift hit across the face by now.

“What-“

“No! I don’t care! Go to your room. We’ll call you down when we’re ready to talk to you. We should’ve never let you into our home.” 

Harry’s jaw clenched, but after a moment of contemplation, decided to leave the room. As he closed the doors behind him, voices in the kitchen resumed, but Harry couldn’t be bothered to eavesdrop. He headed back to his room and carried on packing, wishing that Hedwig had returned from her trip to The Burrow, so he didn’t have to face the reality that he was utterly alone.

**Author's Note:**

> hi, i really hope you enjoyed this little missing scene! feel free to leave a comment telling me what you thought :)
> 
> also, i'd just like to note that i don't support jkr's views on the trans community and if you do, please don't read any of my works again, thanks.


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